Cold Comfort
by bugsfic
Summary: It's a winter wonderland on New Caprica, and Laura needs Bill to stoke her fires.


_Originally posted on Livejournal in October, 2009_

* * *

As Bill stepped onto the Raptor's wing, he was slapped back by a wall of frozen air, causing him to gasp and then cough on the ice crystals. He squinted with watering eyes at the bundle of clothes waddling towards him. Only his imagination and the few strands of red hair poking out from her wool cap told him that Laura was in there.

She could have put on a hundred pounds since he last saw her three months ago, and he'd be none the wiser until they were stripped down...not that he wanted to take a single garment off until they were in her tent with her little stove belching heat. He only had his wool uniform and heavy overcoat for protection against this biting cold. He smiled as a greeting, but his chilled lips stuck to his icy teeth.

He'd been surprised by her recent call on the wireless, asking him to come down-no, make that begging him to visit the surface. "Please, Bill, as soon as you can arrange your schedule."

He'd turned his back to the rest of the crew in the CIC, dropping his voice low. "Do you want me, Laura?"

Her voice dripped heat. "Yeah, Bill. I want you-I need you, so bad."

He knew that she'd pay for his visit; Gaius Baltar always made her life hell after Bill came to the surface-surprise searches of her tent, disrupting her classes to bring her in for questioning. And Bill could do nothing, particularly when he was ordered to deliver fifty more reports on the spaceships' tylium usage, in triplicate, after his visits.

But frak all that now; she needed him. "I'll come for you," he rumbled down the wireless, holding the handset with a death grip.

"Do," she purred at him and he muttered his goodbyes, already mentally rearranging the skeleton crew schedule to give him at least two nights with her.

When he had put the handset back and smoothed his uniform down, he noticed that Helo was close and trying very hard not to snicker. Bill had chosen not to acknowledge his subordinate's bemusement; frak, he gave that boy and Sharon conjugal visits; it would be his turn now.

Bill pulled his cap down over his reddened ears and clumsily hurried towards Laura. She was making slow progress herself, raising one heavy arm and waving with a huge mitten. The mud had frozen solid, creating a minefield to navigate.

Muffled by her thick scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face, Laura mumbled, "You' 'ere!"

"Yes," he bellowed, great puffs of white frost gusting out of his mouth. "Let's get to your place, now."

They carefully minced through the frozen mud, occasionally tipping into each other, shoulders clashing.

He couldn't wait; he pulled her behind the first tent intending to kiss her, but her scarf was too tightly wound around her face, so they rubbed noses clumsily.

"Let's keep going," she said, her green eyes shining invitingly.

They finally made it to her sagging grey tent; her humble home. But when he slipped through the flap, it was no warmer inside than outside. If anything, without the watery sunlight, it was colder.

"No fire?" Bill said, staring at the dark stove.

Laura carefully pulled her scarf down just far enough to reveal her mouth. "I'm saving the wood for when it gets really cold later; it's rationed." She motioned at the few pathetic logs stacked beside the stove.

"Oh," he said, beginning to shake in earnest now that he wasn't walking.

She snuggled close...or as close as she could get with two coats, three sweaters, and four shirts on. "I can think of a way to warm up."

"Yeah," he grinned, and his mustache cracked; it was frozen solid.

He went to kiss her and she yelped at the ice rubbing on her upper lip. He kept going. "If you kiss me enough, it'll melt," he pointed out.

"That thing's coming off in the morning," she muttered between kisses.

"I need it to keep my lips warm," he said, rubbing it on her cheek, causing her to shudder.

He pulled her mittened hands around to cover his ass-some warmth there. Currently, his genitals were very confused. His balls were tight up in his abdomen, huddling there for warmth, but his dick was optimistically trying to pump enough blood to get into its action station. "You're gonna have to help me out here," he said, "Heat me up."

The great pile of coats shimmied against him. "This isn't helping?" she asked.

"My imagination can only go so far," he said, his fingers fumbling on her coat's buttons.

Conflict warred across her frigid gaze, but she finally relented and allowed him to unbutton her coats. But when his freezing hands slipped in next to her skin, she wailed, "NO!"

"Okay, okay," he soothed, going up three shirts higher in her layers. Still, when he got to her breasts, her nipples were like bullets, pointed right at his heart. It was enough. "Yeah," he rumbled, rubbing his chilled thighs against hers.

She warmed to him, smirking into his dripping mustache. "Melting you down?"

"The fire's lit," he promised, but when she unbuttoned his fly, shoving his pants open and his boxers down, he screeched three notes higher up the range from his baritone when her frost-encrusted mitten touched his cock.

"Hands, hands," he whimpered. "Not those clumps of ice!"

She glanced down at his twitching cock-twitching from the cold, not arousal. "Has my horny memory been deluding me, or have you gotten shorter?" she mused aloud.

Indignant, he said, "It's called shrinkage. Look at my balls!"

"Where are they?" she squealed, peeking behind his cock.

"They're smarter than I am," he bellowed, "They're somewhere hot!"

She gave him her most wicked glance. "I'd give you a blowjob to see if we can get it all to come back out," she said, "but I'm afraid of my tongue sticking to your pole."

"Get in that frakkin' cot," he growled, pulling his pants closed with as much dignity as he could muster. "It's got to be warmer."

She didn't even remove her boots or one single coat and got under the blankets. "Join me, quick, and don't let any cold air in," she commanded. He credited her less than melodious tone to the loss of the presidency and missing the ability to order around underlings, and all these months of ordering around small children.

Joking, he said, "What, did you just ask me down here to get you warm?"

She gave a forced laugh and said, "Of course not!" Her eyes didn't quite meet his, the slight misalignment he'd come to refer to as her politician's eyeline.

His fleeting suspicions were pushed aside when she held up one corner of the blanket as a pathetic invitation and barked, "I said, get in here."

As he shuffled under the blanket, trying to let in as little cold air as possible, he also admitted that he enjoyed being ordered around in bed, and she knew that. Neither chose to explore its meaning, but nothing like Frak me now! to get him hard as a icicle.

He rolled over on top of her. "Okay, how are we going to do this?" he muttered, his face buried between her scarf and thick wool cap. Warm, warm at last-

"It hasn't been that long," she griped.

But when he started to undo her pants, she protested like a Gemenese virgin. "No, no-"

"Honey," he pointed out, "I need to get to your pussy."

"Let me do it," she said, "I'll give you just enough."

"Lords," he grumbled, "I'm back in high school with Astrid Goldblatt in my Dad's car."

"You want it, or not?" she hissed, pushing her pants, long underwear, tights and panties down to mid-thigh.

"I want it bad," he sneered. Their sexual frustration was rapidly turning into just plain old frustration. He needed to get his frozen solid nut off and then he'd be in a much better mood, ready to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings.

His chilly hands swept over her finally bared thighs, discovering a light covering of hair. He chuckled, noting that even her pubic hair seemed thicker. He observed, "You know, they say that it's going to be a cold winter when the squirrels' tails are really bushy."

"You are skating on thin ice, William Adama," she growled, tipping her hips up into his seeking fingers.

"Don't I know it, my snow princess," he retorted, his facetious mood getting out of control. He had to be careful; he'd discovered her usual good sense of humor did not extend to bed; she was all business.

She got back into his pants, her hands now mitten-free but freezing and his teeth chattered as she stroked him to hardness. His bare ass was studded with goosebumps.

"Okay, we can do this," she assured him and he wondered when she decided that her sixty year old lover needed coaching on frakking.

Then he tried to wedge himself in the narrow vise of her thighs.

"Uh, Laura, you're going to need to take your pants off."

"No," she said. "Try harder."

He tried harder, pushing in as far as he could, finally getting his cock head in contact with heat-warm, wet, heat. That motivated him. Grabbing the sides of her cot, he pushed harder.

She arched up, groaning, "Yeah, right there."

"I found your pussy," he rejoiced, getting the dirty look again.

"Shut up with the smart remarks, flyboy, and frak me," she ordered, and he retorted with another thrust, thumping the cot's legs on the dirt floor.

With his legs hogtied by his pants and boots, hers as well, he found that using the cot's rails as leverage gave him the ability to thrust as deep as he was going to get-and that wasn't too deep-but she quickly and mercifully was headed up the mountain.

Panting out puffs of white breath, mingling with his clouds, she chanted, "Yes, yes, right there, oh gods, oh Bill, I've needed this, I've needed you, keep going, yes, harder, feels so good-no, more, there, right there, harder-"

His head spun trying to follow all her admonishments, so he bore down, yanking at the cot, thrusting as deep as he could-

The cot lifted off the ground, the legs came loose from the railings, and for a brief, terrifying moment, they were suspended in mid-air before the crashing fall. The impact finally pushed him balls deep into her and she came with a wail, sharp and heart-stopping as the cold.

He garbled, "Are you all right?" but her wool cap had slid down over her eyes; he had to take her familiar slack mouth and deep moans for his answer that she was just fine.

His legs were now completely tangled in bedding, and even more constrained by their pants. Her vaginal walls clenched hard around his cock and he couldn't help but to begin thrusting again, even as his range of motion was nil. Tied down, he suddenly-as his balls tightened and began shooting out his release-understood the appeal of bondage.

She gasped another, weaker orgasm, holding his ass tight against her. Finally spent, his erratic hip pumps stilled, he tried to roll off of her, but she kept him close.

"You're just using me," he said, but his voice was now content. He was warm at last and every frustration had blown out with his orgasm.

"Yeah," she admitted. "You're my big blankie."

With some grunts and whimpers at the cold air touching damp, bare skin, they got their pants back up. He shifted just enough to keep his weight off her, but so that his body and overcoat covered her.

She tugged her scarf back up, leaving just the end of her nose for him to kiss. She hummed happily, but pulled the scarf higher, right under her eyes.

Using his most seductive gravelly voice, he asked, "Can we start the fire now?"

Her reply was glacial. "No, it's not cold enough yet."

Snuggling his icy nose into her thick hair, he realized he was going to have to find the refractory of forty years ago if he was to stay warm through the night.

~end


End file.
